


Science Giants

by blackgoliath



Category: Marvel (Comics)
Genre: 30 Day brotp Challenge, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 14:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 6,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackgoliath/pseuds/blackgoliath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bunch of drabbles of Bill Foster and Hank Pym being the best of friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Having Coffee

“So, have you asked her out yet?”

Hank spluttered, dribbling coffee all down his front. Bill didn’t even try to hide his snort. 

“N-No, no, I haven’t,” Hank answered, dabbing a napkin at his shirt. He glanced quickly around the cafe to make sure none of the other patrons had noticed. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment, and it just hasn’t happened yet.” He wadded the dirty napkins in a ball and set them next to his coffee mug. “This is a delicate process—”

“I think you’re just a coward.” Bill took a sip of his mocha, grinning across the table at his friend. Hank shot him a look. “You like the girl, don’t you? When you aren’t babbling about your ants, she’s the only thing you talk about. All you have to do is ask her to dinner! Here.” Bill set his mug on the table and straightened in his seat. “Pretend I’m Janet, and ask me out.”

Hank glared at him. “No.”

“Come  _on_. You can do it. I believe in you.”

Hank tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, staring at the space behind Bill’s head, then sighed. Closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, he began, “Janet, I was wondering, if, uh, you might want to go to dinner with me sometime, and—”

“Oh, yes, Hank! I have been waiting  _forever_  for you to ask!” Bill said in a high, effeminate voice. “Do you mind if we go shopping afterwards? I just  _looooove_ shopping!” Hank’s stony expression had no effect on Bill’s laughter, and when Bill started to devolve into wheezing guffaws, Hank finally cracked a smile himself.

“Okay, fine, I’ll ask her out - but never - and I mean  _never_  - do that voice again.”


	2. Working Out

Bill looked up from the microscope suddenly. 

“Hank?”

Hank, on the other side of the room, didn’t glance away from his bacteria samples. “What?”

“Weren’t we supposed to go to the gym today?”

“What?”

“Captain America said we should go to the gym today. Remember? At the last Avengers meeting? He said we were getting soft and we needed to plan a work out schedule, starting today.”

Hank stared, unfocused, at his samples for a second, then checked his watch. It was 3 a.m.

“I don’t think the gym is open right now, buddy.”

“What time is it?”

“Three in the morning.”

Bill shook his head and smiled slightly. “We’re probably not going to the gym today, are we.”

Hank glanced over his shoulder and the two shared a look. They both chuckled and turned away.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”


	3. On a Road Trip

“It’s nice to get out of the lab for once.” Bill rolled down the driver’s side window and stuck his free hand out into the wind. “And we picked the perfect day for it. Blue skies, no clouds, warm weather.”

“It is a nice day,” Hank admitted, looking out at the scenery as they drove past. “We’re lucky you had a car, or we wouldn’t have been able to do this.”

“Not everyone shrinks down and rides ants to work, Hank.” Bill smiled at his friend before returning his eyes to the road. “And you deserve a break. We both do. We’ve been in that lab non-stop for the past six days.”

“We were in the middle of a very important experiment.”

“I know, I was there too.” Bill shook his head. “I’m not complaining, just saying.”

“I know.”

“Good.” Bill turned on the blinker. “We’re here!” 

He pulled the car into a parking lot, finding a good spot near the front and parking neatly between the two white lines. Bill was an excellent driver and good at parking. Hank, however, tended to be ‘that guy’ who’d park somewhat into the next parking space, or at a weird angle. He just didn’t drive enough to be any better.

“Do you think it was worth it?” Hank asked as they walked away from the car. “Taking a break like this?”

“Well, we are running out of food.” Bill grinned and patted his friend on the shoulder as they walked into the grocery store.


	4. Fishing

 Bill lifted his fishing pole, grabbing at the shining hook dangling at the end of his fishing line. He pulled it toward him and started pushing another squirming worm onto the hook’s sharp point.

Hank was leaning back in the boat, an open Pepsi in one hand and a fishing pole in the other. His line was in the water. Unlike Bill, he hadn’t had much luck catching anything.

“So why do they keep going for your line instead of mine?” Hank asked, watching Bill replace his bait. 

“Maybe because I don’t keep scaring them away with my big mouth,” Bill replied with a smile. He dropped the worm-laden hook back into the water, letting his line trail behind them as the boat slowly drifted across the lake.

“This is an excellent program, by the way.”

“Thanks. I worked hard on it.” Hank took a sip from his Pepsi.

“Where’d you get the idea for a virtual reality this complex?”

Hank took a moment to finish his Pepsi as Bill waited impatiently. He knew a stalling tactic when he saw one.

“It can’t be  _that_  embarrassing.”

“Sure it isn’t.” Hank put down the empty Pepsi can and sighed. “Fine.” He mumbled something incoherently under his breath.

“What was that?”

“From Star Trek, okay? I’ve always wanted a holodeck of my own, and now I have one.” Hank gave his friend an irritable look and grabbed another Pepsi out of the cooler. “Happy?”

“Extremely.” Bill’s grin widened as his line jerked. “Would you look at that. Another bite.”


	5. At a Convention

“Why are we going to this again?”

“I wanted to go at least once in my life.”

“You know the CSTCC is this weekend too.”

“We go to that every year. We can skip one.”

“The great Hank Pym? Skip a conference on theoretical chemistry? Well I  _never_.”

“Stop that. It’s already hard enough. Now hurry up; we have to leave soon.”

“Fine. But I’m not wearing these.”

Bill shoved the two pointed ear tips under Hank’s nose. “So you can  stop trying to coerce me into looking like an idiot.”

“I wasn’t trying to  _coerce_  you into anything,” Hank said indignantly. “Just set them on the table.” Bill did as he was told.

“And I’m not going anywhere until you take off yours.”

“I’m not wearing any.” Hank looked away, confirming Bill’s suspicions. “What do I look like, an acne-ridden teenager?”

“Don’t lie to me. You’re hiding them under your hat. You  _never_  wear hats.” Bill flicked the bill of Hank’s cap up and off his head, revealing the ear tips in question. Hank stuttered and flushed before quickly pulling them off and tossing them on the table next to Bill’s.

“All right.  _Now_  we can leave.” Bill grinned and clapped Hank on the shoulder. “But you should’ve gone by yourself. You know I’m never  _ever_  going to let you live this down.” He steered Hank toward the door. “I mean, a Trekkie convention?  _Really_.”

Hank kept his eyes trained on the ground; his glare was hot enough to set the floor alight. 

“I hate you so much right now.”


	6. Making Up Over a Stupid Fight

Hank sat hunched over a counter in his lab, scribbling notes on a piece of paper, stopping only to peer into the microscope he’d set up next to him. The lab was silent but for his breathing and the scratch of his pencil on the paper until the door creaked open.

Hank didn’t look up as Bill sidled into the lab, hands in the pockets of his lab coat. Bill meandered a bit around the counters and equipment, staring at everything and anything but Hank. Hank, excellent at the art of ignoring others, did just that. Finally Bill sighed and walked over to his friend, hovering over Hank’s shoulder, which continued to radiate ice.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Hank continued with his note-taking in silence. Bill shuffled his feet and looked at the ceiling and sighed again. “I mean it Hank. I’m here to apologize.”

Hank stopped and put his pencil down, swiveling his chair to face Bill. His expression was hard and unforgiving. He still said nothing.

Bill threw up his hands. “What do you want me to do, get down on my hands and grovel? I said I was sorry, okay?”

Hank crossed his arms. “Say you were wrong.”

“Come on, man—”

“Say it.”

Bill rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. “Fine, fine.” He took a deep breath. “I… was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?”

Bill worked very hard not to grind his teeth. “I was wrong… to say that entomology is a waste of time and a blight on the scientific community.”

“And?”

“ _And_ … I was wrong to call your bug collection stupid and childish.” Bill’s shoulders slumped. “Okay?”

For a beat, Hank did nothing. Bill was about to ask what the hell else his friend could need when a smile spread across Hank’s face and he nodded in satisfaction.

“Apology accepted.” Hank swiveled back to his notes. “And you are allowed back in the lab.”

“ _Finally_.” Bill hurried over to the counter where he’d last been working three days ago before Hank had barred him from entry. Hank had left everything the way it had been, thankfully. If he’d been really mad, Bill imagined Hank would’ve finished Bill’s experiment himself. Nothing was more painful. “I was about this close to working for Tony Stark, you know.” 

“Then I would have disowned you for good,” Hank called over his shoulder.


	7. Picking Out Baby Clothes

“Janet wanted you to do this because….?”

“I have no idea.” Hank frowned as he hunched over his laptop. He was scrolling through page after page of baby clothes from some store specifically designed for selling baby products. “I think a friend of hers is throwing a baby shower next week.”

“Then why doesn’t  _she_  do this?”

“She has a new fashion line to design and launch by next month,” Hank replied. He sighed and looked up at Bill. “I’ve already been through this with her. Nothing I say will change her mind.”

“I think she’s trying to tell you something.” Bill leaned up against the desk. In the dim light from Hank’s desk lamp, Bill’s slight smirk was hard to see. 

“You do?” Hank frowned pensively. “What would she be trying to tell me?”

“Well, for one, are you sure she really has a friend throwing a baby shower?”

“Yes, why would she—” Hank stopped cold. “No, no way, that is  _not_  what’s happening here.”

Bill’s smirk grew. “I think it is.”

“And  _I_  think you’re wrong.” Hank glowered at the screen, his scrolling picking up in speed. “She’s just too busy to look for something herself—”

“Or she’s dropping the biggest hint she can without actually talking to you about it. Not that you would have even figured it out without my help.” Bill crossed his arms. “Is that something that you want?”

“I…” Hank leaned back and shook his head. “No, I… right now would be a terrible time. She’s always working and I’m always in the lab, and… I would be a bad father.”

“Whoa, wait a minute, that’s not what I said—”

“I know, Bill, don’t worry. But I mean it. I would make a terrible father.” Hank rested his face in his hands.

They were quiet for a moment. Then Bill said, “You can stop shopping for baby clothes now, you know.”

Hank clicked out of the window and cracked a small smile. “Probably the only good thing about this situation.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “How am I going to talk to her about this?”

“Wait for her to come to you.” Bill clapped his hand on Hank’s shoulder. “I’ll see you later, okay? I’ve got a date tonight and if I don’t get out of here soon I’m gonna be late.”

Since he was in the middle of a project for S.H.I.E.L.D., Bill didn’t see Hank for about a week. When he finally did find the time to check on his friend, he found Hank sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of his lab, head in hands. Fearing Hank had had another mental breakdown, Bill rushed to Hank’s side.

“Hank! Are you okay, man?”

“No.” Hank looked up from his hands, his expression forlorn. “You were wrong.”

“What?”

Hank sighed. “Janet wasn’t dropping any hints, Bill. She really did just ask me to buy some baby clothes for her friend’s baby shower. And when she didn’t have any to bring to the shower—” Hank swallowed, as if it was painful for him to go on. 

Bill sat down on the floor, his tone soothing. “What’d she do?”

“She— She—” Hank swallowed again, then buried his face in his hands. “She threw away my ant farm!”

The hiccoughs that resulted from Bill’s attack of laughter would not subside for another three hours. When he asked Hank for a remedy, Hank told him it ‘served him right’ and refused to speak to him again until the next day.


	8. Planning a Wedding Toast

Hank rummaged through his desk drawers, searching for one of the formulas he’d written down the week before. His fingers dug through papers and clutter in the bottom drawer, scraping the bottom before closing on a crumpled piece of paper in the far back corner. Frowning, he smoothed it out and, noticing it wasn’t the formula he’d been looking for, started to toss it back in the drawer. His eyes caught the first sentence, however, and he stopped.

_“Bill, as your best man, I just want to say I’m proud of you.”_

He remembered when he’d written this. Bill had stopped by Hank’s lab after the whole Yellowjacket fiasco and Hank’s wedding to Janet.

_“So, now you’re married.” Bill leaned against Hank’s desk the way he usually did. “How’s it feel to be in a fully committed and legally binding relationship?”_

_“It feels great.” Hank smiled, a real, genuine smile, so big it almost took up his whole face. “I’ve never been happier, even with the… circumstances being what they were.”_

_“I’m happy for you too, man. But next time you get married, why don’t you have a real wedding so you can make me your best man?”_

_Hank laughed. “I’m thinking that I won’t have to get married again, but if I do, I’ll let you know.”_

_“Good. Which means when I get married you have to be_ my _best man.”_

_“Oh, I don’t know about that, Bill—”_

_“You can’t back out of this, buddy.” Bill shook his head with a smile. “And you better have a great speech too.”_

_“I’m not good with speeches. You know that.”_

_“Doesn’t matter,” Bill said. “I’ve got an idea - how about you write it up now, so you’ll have it when you need it. And I’ll even look over it for you.”_

_Hank scoffed. “Are you planning on getting married anytime soon?”_

_“No,” Bill replied. “But you didn’t either, and look at you now. It doesn’t hurt to be prepared!” Bill stood straight and cracked his neck. “No more than 500 words, young man. And if you even mention bugs I will burn it.”_

A water droplet hit the paper and jolted Hank out of his memories. He rubbed a hand across his eyes, wiping his wet fingers on his pants. He took the paper, folded it neatly, and put it in the top drawer of his desk, where he could always find it if he needed to.

It didn’t hurt to be prepared.


	9. Roller Skating

Hank threw out his arms and wobbled unsteadily. He grabbed at the nearest tree in a panic, his elbow pads scraping against the bark.

Bill skidded to a stop near him, casually leaning against the trunk of Hank’s tree and wearing a shit-eating grin.

“You’re never going to learn if you don’t let go of that tree.”

“If I let go of this tree I’ll fall on my butt. Again.” Hank pulled away just enough to tighten the straps of his helmet. He’d also opted for the knee pads Bill had had squirreled away in his apartment, and even though Hank looked ridiculous, he felt that much safer for the protection. 

“That’s part of the learning process,” Bill said. He skated closer and grabbed Hank’s arm, gently pulling his friend away from the tree. “You said you wanted to learn how to skate so you could take Janet to Rockefeller Center this year, and I said I’d help you. But you won’t learn if you don’t try!”

“Rockefeller Center is ice-skating. This is rollerblading. It’s completely different,” Hank said matter-of-factly, still trying to hold onto the tree. But Bill did have a point, so he was allowing himself to be ever-so-slowly pulled away. 

“There’s no ice rink around here. This is the closest we can get.” Bill finally coaxed Hank back out onto the sidewalk. Hank wobbled and clutched at Bill’s arm. “You can do this.” With a little push, Bill dislodged himself from Hank’s grasp. Hank, eyes wide with fear, glanced back at his treacherous friend as he started rolling down the slightly tilted sidewalk. 

“Just do it like I showed you!” Bill called after Hank’s retreating form. Hank had started pinwheeling his arms, so Bill took off after him; by the time he caught up to his friend, Hank was doing as Bill had said. He was actually skating now. Hank gave Bill a relieved smile and started to relax as he got control of himself.

Until he ran into a bench and flipped over the back.

Bill slid to a stop. “Looks like you still need some practice,” he laughed.


	10. Changing a Tire

“Yup, it’s flat all right.” bill crouched in front of the front tire. “Looks like we’re going to be late to the convention. I’ll call triple A.” Bill pulled out his cellphone and started dialing.

“you’ve got a spare tire right here. There’s no need for a tow truck.” Hank rummaged around in the trunk, bringing out the spare and the tools he’d need to put it on.

“Well, yeah, but…” Bill watched Hank haul the spare to the front. Hank leaned it against the car and got to work. He looked up at Bill.

“Haven’t you changed a tire before?”

“Yes,” Bill said indignantly. Then, “No,” he said in the same tone. Hank chuckled.

“I’ve never had to before!”

“No one’s judging you, Bill,” Hank said. He loosened the bolts on the tire with a wrench. “Though you should probably watch me and learn, since this  _is_  your car.”

“How do  _you_  know how? You don’t drive!”

“It’s just something I picked up.” He was quiet as he pulled off the flat and started bolting the spare on. It didn’t take much longer for him to finish. Grabbing the tools and the flat, he brought them back to the trunk. 

“Now we won’t be late to the convention,” he said triumphantly, closing the trunk. He walked around to the passenger’s side.

Bill slid into the driver’s seat, still eyeing Hank warily.

“What else can you do that I don’t know about?”

“Well,” Hank said thoughtfully as they pulled off the shoulder, “Jan says I can give an excellent foot massage - “

“Ugh, gross. Forget I asked.”


	11. Making Ships in Bottles

Bill carefully inserted his tweezers into the glass bottle before him. His face was tense with concentration. He slowly pushed a tiny rudder into place, giving the glue a moment to take hold before withdrawing the tweezers. He was moving on to a tiny mast when Hank came into the lab.

“What are you doing?” Hank asked curiously, peering at the delicate, half-made ship in its small bottle.

“What’s it look like?” Bill kept his eyes on his craft. “Stop distracting me.”

“Why don’t you build it outside the bottle and use Pym Particles to fit it in?” Bill stopped and stared at his friend.

“It’d be a lot easier,” Hank continued. Bill blinked slowly, then shook his head.

“No, I have to do it this way.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s just the way you do it.”

“But my method is so much better,” Hank insisted.

“Then make your own!” Bill turned back to his work. “Now stop  _distracting_  me.” Hank watched for a moment longer, then left Bill alone.

It took another few hours, but finally, finally, Bill was done. He looked proudly at his creation. It was a triple-masted merchant ship, one of the hardest he had ever made. It looked magnificent.

“That came out nice,” said Hank from behind him. Bill turned to see that Hank was also holding a glass bottle.

“I made my own, like you said,” Hank said cheerfully, setting his bottle next to Bill’s. Hank had built an excellent pirate ship, one which made Bill’s look slightly less magnificent. Still, Bill thought his was better.

“It’s pretty good,” Bill admitted.

“I haven’t shown you what it does yet.” hank pulled out a small remote. He flicked the on switch and the pirate ship came to life. Sails rippled in an unseen wind; the rudder turned as though it were steering the ship through choppy water. Hank pressed another button and there was a soft boom; tiny cannonballs shot from the canons and clicked harmlessly against the inside of the bottle.

“I even put dirt below decks for my ant pirates,” Hank boasted, turning to Bill. Except Bill wasn’t there anymore, and neither was his bottle.

“Bill?” Hank called to the empty lab. “Where’d you go?”


	12. Raking Leaves

Bill looked out the window of Hank’s small apartment, a warm cup of cocoa in his hands. It helped keep his fingers from freezing - Hank’s apartment was like an ice box.

“Remind me why it’s so cold in here again?”

“Radiator’s broken.”

“Oh.” Bill took a sip of his cocoa. “Did you tell the landlord yet?”

“No.” 

“Didn’t think so.”

Bill turned away from the window and walked over to where Hank was sitting at his kitchen table nursing his own mug of hot cocoa. The tabletop was covered in notes and paperwork; Hank had cleared a small space so he could set his mug down without staining any of the papers. Bill sat in the chair across from him, picking up a phone bill out of mild curiosity before setting it aside.

“That little stretch of grass out front could use a good raking too.”

“Hmm?” Hank looked up from the page of notes he’d been reading.

“You’ve got a lot of dead leaves on the grass outside.”

“Oh.” Hank shrugged. “Landlord will take care of it.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Hank shrugged again.

Bill sighed and looked around at the kitchen. There was a small pile of dirty dishes in the sink, the counter could use a good scrub, and then of course there was the mound of paperwork on the table. He could imagine what the rest of the apartment looked like.

“Dude,” Bill said suddenly, “we need to get you another girlfriend.”


	13. Making Fun of Another Friend

“Do you think he makes special socks that stretch with him?”

A burst of snickers. Reed Richards glanced up momentarily from his workstation, frowned as he was met with silence, and went back to work. His frown deepened as the whispers and snickering continued.

“What about his underwear?”

“Oh god, Bill, what if he goes commando?”

“ _Jes_ us—”

“I can hear you,” Reed called loudly. The whispering immediately stopped. Reed stretched his ear, listening hard for the breathing and movement that would give away his guests’ location. 

“Stop hiding behind that power coupling.” 

He heard a small scuffle, and Bill and Hank popped up from behind the coupling in question. Hank gave Reed a small, awkward smile, while Bill  was still trying to hide his laughter behind his hand. The two of them filed awkwardly out of the lab. 

Reed was just getting back into the zone when he heard Bill whisper “What if he deflates when he cums?” and Hank scream “ _Bill!_ ”


	14. Bandaging a Burn

Bill hissed through his teeth at the puckered, bright red skin on his forearm. It stung like a  _bastard_. He didn’t know which was worse; how much his burn hurt or the way Hank was looking at him as he grabbed bandages and burn ointment. Hank kept glancing back at Bill as though Bill was going to spontaneously combust at any moment.

 ”I told you to be careful around that Bunsen burner,” Hank scolded, setting the medical supplies on the counter where Bill was sitting. 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“You should have been paying more attention to what you were doing.”

“I know.” 

“Seriously, the lab is a dangerous place—”

“ _I know_ , Hank!” 

Hank sighed and screwed the top off the burn ointment. “I’m sorry, Bill.” 

“It’s fine. I’ve only been working in a lab like this for the past ten years of my life.” 

Hank cracked a smile at that. He squeezed the ointment onto his hand and gingerly started rubbing it over Bill’s burn, frowning at the small hisses of pain his friend was making. As the ointment sank into the wound, Bill felt the pain and heat receding. He closed his eyes.

“Better?”

“Much, thank you.” 

“Anytime.” Hank made quick work with the bandages, wrapping them tightly - but not too tightly - around Bill’s forearm. He secured the end and stepped back. 

“There. That should heal in a few days.” He crossed the lab to one of the cupboards on the other side. Hank grabbed a bottle of Aspirin and brought it back to Bill, opening it and dropping two of the pills into Bill’s hand.

“Take these and call me in the morning,” Hank joked, grinning like an idiot. Bill laughed and swallowed the pills. 

“Thanks, Doc. Now get out of my way so I can get back to work.”

“I think you should take a break—”

“It’s just a burn, I’m fine.” Bill turned back to the counter, where the Bunsen burner - now safely turned off - was pushed toward the opposite edge. “Will you stop mothering me?” 

“Maybe if you were paying  _attention_ —”

“Nope, that’s it.” Bill shot to his feet and pushed past Hank to the door. “You’re getting your wish. I’m going home.” Hank followed him, poking his head out of the door as his friend walked away down the hall.

“All right. Good night, Bill.” Bill waved a hand without looking back. Hank frowned. 

“But really, if you’d be more careful—”

“Good  _night_ , Hank!”


	15. First Friend-Date

“William Foster, isn’t it?” 

Bill looked up from his computer, then blinked in surprise when he realized the lab was empty except for him and Dr. Pym, who was standing next to him.

“That’s me.” 

“You’re here pretty late, aren’t you?” 

Bill purposefully avoided looking at the clock and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“And I thought I was the only one who didn’t have anything to do on Friday nights.” 

Bill chuckled awkwardly. He wasn’t good at talking with his boss, and even though Dr. Pym wasn’t really his boss, there still existed that professional distance between them. 

“Say,” Dr. Pym said suddenly. “Do you want to get something to eat? There’s a diner a few blocks down that’s still open this time of night.”

Bill glanced from his unfinished work to his colleague, then nodded.

“Sure, sounds good, Dr. Pym.” 

“Great.” Pym smiled. “And call me Hank.”

“All right… Hank.” Bill saved his work and turned off his computer. “You can call me Bill.”

“Well, Bill,” Hank said as they walked together toward the exit, “I hope you like pie, because the place I’m thinking of has some  _really_  good pie.”


	16. Walking in on an awkward situation

Bill found Hank in his room. It took four knocks to get Hank to come to the door, and even then Hank nearly didn’t let Bill in. Instead, he stared at his friend sadly for almost a minute before stepping aside.

“Why are you here?”

“Steve called. Said you hadn’t come out in almost two days.” Bill stayed where he was as Hank closed the door with a quiet snap.

“You want to tell me what’s wrong?” 

“No.” Hank slumped onto his bed, his gaze glued to the floor. He looked like a man just before his last supper. Bill crossed over to the bed and sat down beside him. They sat like that for a while, neither saying a word, their breathing and fidgeting the only sound in the room.

Finally, Hank said, “Janet cheated on me.”

Bill stared. “What?”

“She cheated on me.” Hank looked at the clock, at his dresser, at anything but Bill. “With Clint.”

“How—”

“I walked in one them two days ago.” 

They were quiet again.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Hank.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Hank wrung his hands with such intensity Bill thought he was going to pop one of his fingers out of socket. Bill put a hand on Hank’s forearm and he stopped.

“Do you want to stay with me for a while?”

“Yes….no.” Hank shook his head. “No. I can’t run away from her, or the team. I’ll just have to deal with it.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Yeah.” After another moment of silence, Bill heard a quiet sob and realized Hank was crying. When Hank leaned against him he put an arm around his friend’s shoulders without a word. They stayed like that a while, until Hank was quiet again. Eventually Hank sat up and Bill let his arm drop.

“Thanks. For everything.”

Bill gave Hank a small smile. “What’re friends for?”


	17. Being yelled at for taking a cookie from the cookie jar

“HANK! BILL!”

The two scientists froze, twin chocolate chip cookies stuck halfway to their mouths. Both turned guiltily to face a hard-faced Captain America.

“Would you like to tell me what you think you two are doing?”

“Uh,” Hank said.

“Nothing,” Bill said, holding his cookie behind his back. Hank had cleverly stuffed his own in a pocket of his lab coat.

Steve kept his eyes locked on theirs as he slowly circled around them. Bill just managed to hide his cookie before it was spotted, though neither could do anything about the conspicuously bare spaces on the cookie sheet.

“Do you have any idea what happened to these two cookies?” Steve asked, pointed at the sheet. “I made these for the Fourth of July party. Would you two possibly have  _stolen_  them?”

“What? No—”

“We would  _never_ —”

“If you did,” Steve went on, advancing on the two of them, his pointer fingers shoved right up under their noses, “and I find out, you two get extra cleaning duty.” Their shoulders visibly slumped.

“Of the Hulk’s private bathroom.”

As Steve stalked out of the room, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face, Hank and Bill shoved the stolen cookies back onto the cookie sheet and bolted out of the kitchen.


	18. MST3King a Movie

The movie was only about ten minutes in, and already Bill and Hank were screaming at it.

“Okay, I don’t care how great this ‘Indiana Jones’ guy is, he would NOT have been able to survive a nuclear explosion!”

Bill nodded his head and flung his hands up in exasperated agreement. “And even if the refrigerator saved him, he would’ve broken his neck bouncing around in it!”

They were quiet for a while, but beyond some grumbling, neither said much until the middle of the movie.

“Wait,” Hank said suddenly. “They’re looking for a what now?”

“An alien skull. Thing.”

“But didn’t the other three movies have to do with, you know, Christian artifacts?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Then how are there aliens if this universe has proven the existence of the Abrahamic God?” 

“Who the hell knows.” 

A few moments later Peter wandered into the living room. He peered over the edge of the couch. 

“Hey, are you guys watching Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull? I love that movie!”

Two faces, identical in their contempt, turned toward him. Dark thunder clouds hung over their heads as Bill and Hank silently judged their fellow Avenger. Peter slowly backed out of the room and did not come near that side of the house for the next three hours.


	19. Totally not getting what MST3K is

“I’m sorry, run that by me again - why were the two of you up until 3 o’clock in the morning screaming at science fiction movies?”

“Uh, well.” Bill shrugged and turned to Hank, who looked shook his head in a panic.

“Don’t look at me.”

“Well, don’t look at me either!”

“I’m looking at  _both_  of you.” Steve stood with his arms crossed over his chest. He was giving the two of them a pretty intense stink eye. “I don’t need much sleep, but that doesn’t mean I like being woken up by… whatever it was you were doing.”

“We were MST3K-ing some old sci-fi flicks,” Bill said helpfully.

Steve stared. “You were what?”

“MST3K?” Hank tilted his head. “Mystery Science Theater 3000? Come on Steve, I know you were around during the eighties.”

“That doesn’t mean I know about your magic science whatever.”

“It’s  _Mystery_  Science—”

“Look, we’re really sorry about last night,” Bill cut in hastily. “We were just having a little fun and it got out of hand. We’re really, really sorry.” 

Steve looked from one to the other, taking in the blue and brown eyes that were producing the same puppy dog looks. He sighed.

“Fine. Just… don’t do it again.” Steve left the two of them high-fiving each other. He muttered something about wishing he could drink coffee under his breath as he retired back to his room. 


	20. Mending Clothing

Hank held up the ruins of what had been his costume and sighed heavily.

“You could always just… make a new one?” Bill came up behind his friend and hid a smile at the gaping holes in the fabric. 

“I don’t have time for that. I’m going to try and mend it.” Hank folded up the wrecked cloth and set it on a nearby counter. Even mending it would take longer than he wanted it to; he had other work to do, and there was no telling when he’d be called out into the field again.

“You could always get that spider-guy to do it.”

Hank turned and frowned at Bill. “Peter? Why do you say that?”

“I hear he makes his own costume. Sews the whole thing himself. I’m sure he could do something with that if you gave him the material.” Bill gestured at the costume.

“And how do you know  _he_  has the time to do that?” Hank shook his head. “No, I’ll do it.”

“You’re going to forget about it and be stuck going naked next time, and you know it.” Bill grinned at Hank’s scowl. “Just give it to the spider-guy.”

“Fine.” Hank grabbed the costume and shoved it at Bill. “You go ask him. I’ve got work to do.” He pushed a protesting Bill out of the lab and, after shoving Bill into the hall, locked the door behind him.

Bill jiggled the handle and glared at the lock door. “Yeah? You want me to give it to Peter?” he muttered under his breath, walking down the hall. He shoved the costume into the first garbage he came across and grinned.

“You can just go naked,” he said to himself in a sing-song voice.


	21. Making Dinner

Bill suddenly glanced up from his work.

“Hey, Hank?”

“Mhm?”

“Did we miss dinner again?”

Hank opened his mouth to reply, then looked up from his microscope, his mouth still open.

“Uh. Yeah, yeah I think so.”

“Should we go make some?”

Hank chewed the inside of his cheek. “I’m kind of in the middle of something…”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Don’t worry boys.” Both whipped around as Janet came bursting into the lab, a tray with two plates of food held in her hands. “I made it for you.” She set the tray on one of the counters and stood back, putting her hands on her hips.

Bill and Hank shared a look.

“Uh, thanks honey,” Hank said slowly. “We really appreciate this—”

“I’m gonna go order a pizza.” Bill pulled out his cellphone and left the room. Janet turned an icy, laser-like glare on Hank, who shrank away from her gaze and smiled sheepishly.

“Maybe he’s just really jonesing for pizza….?”


	22. Reading Comics

“Do I really look that…silly?”

“Wow, that v-neck costume really  _wasn’t_  the best choice…”

“Wait, how do they know what the inside of my apartment looks like??”

“Am I  _purple_  in these?”

“Oh. They… wrote one about that.”

“Yeah…sorry.”

“It’s fine. I mean, it can’t be as bad as the issue about my attempted suicide, can it? Haha…”

“Hey, maybe we should stop looking at these.”

“No. I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you are. We should get back to work anyway.”

“Yeah, I… I guess you’re right.”

“I usually am. Let’s go. And don’t worry about that stuff, okay? It’s all crap.”

“….”

“I’m serious Hank.”

“Yeah. I’ll—I’ll try. Thanks, Bill.”

“Anytime.”


End file.
